


this is not a diary

by skellingfish



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Connor keeps a journal against his will, Drug Use, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Sibling Bonding, ill try to keep that to a minimum, obviously or this would be a really short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-09 23:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11115165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skellingfish/pseuds/skellingfish
Summary: Connor's soul is definitely a raisin. Brooding and dark, like he is.





	1. Chapter 1

October 10, 2016

Fuck this. I don't know what mom thinks this is going to do to me. It's not like it's ever worked before. 

My therapist told me to keep a 'diary'. I hate that word it makes me think of those stupid movies that my sister used to watch. The ones with Anne Hathaway and she wants to stick her foot in the air when she kisses a boy. 

So no, I won't keep a diary. I'll keep a journal. 

(What a pathetic act of defiance.)

 

October 15, 2016

Mom's checking to see if I’m actually going through with this.  

 

How do I even start this? 

 ~~Dear Diary,~~  No that doesn't sound right. 

Dear Connor,

That's much better. I feel like I'm just talking to myself which feels a little sad. But if it gets mom off my back then I'll do anything. What am I even supposed to put in here? Probably my darkest most repressed childhood secrets. No thanks.

Today was a normal day I guess. Not much to write about. I got partnered with some kid in bio. Emmet? Evan? I don't know. He's kind of a nerd so he'll probably do all the work which is great. He's smart. He'll get us a good grade.

 

October 16, 2016

Dear Connor,

 

His name's Evan. I checked. He wouldn't shut up about trees.

It was a long day. I stole some of mom's Xanax while she was in the shower. I felt a little bad. I worry she needs them more than me.

Zoe almost caught me. Thank god she didn't.

Fucking snitch.

I won't take the Xanax tonight. I'll save them for a special occasion.

 

 

October 18, 2016

Dear Connor Murphy,

I feel like Greg from Diary of a Wimpy Kid. 

THIS IS NOT A DIARY.

 

October 19, 2016

I was right. Evan did all the work. But I’m still stuck sitting next to him for the whole term so that’ll be fun. 

At least I can cheat off his tests. 

 

October 21, 2016

 

Wow you know what I absolutely love? Being constantly criticized by my parents. And even better, when they try to puppet me through therapy. And best of all, when my doctor invites my mom in and sums up the session without my consent. I'm 18. I should have the choice to say I'm not comfortable with that. But instead of actually listening to me they just talk over me and say they know whats best for me.

I wish someone would listen to me. Anyone. 

 

October 22, 2016

I finished the milk today and blamed it on Zoe. Mom fell for it. 

  

October 27, 2016

Took those Xanax. Currently waiting for them to kick in. I don’t feel any better, just kind of tired. 

I got an email from Evan. He sent me the notes from class since I was absent. That was nice I guess. He’s probably just that type of person. 

If I’m honest, it’s the first nice thing anyone’s done for me in awhile. 

If I’m even more honest I might actually talk to him on Monday. 

I think I’m high.


	2. Chapter 2

October 30, 2016

I can’t believe it. Zoe’s going out to some dumb Halloween party. I’ll have the whole night to myself!

It’s going to be so nice. Mom and dad might go to some potluck or something.

I really hope they all leave me alone. 

Well maybe not completely alone.

But for a little while at least. 

 

October 31, 2016: Afternoon

I don’t understand! Mom’s not being fair. She wants me to go to that party with Zoe. I don't go to parties. That’s the complete opposite of who I am. She just wants to get me out of the house for the night. 

I know I’m going to hate it. I never like the music they play at these kind of things. 

 

October 31, 2016: Night

Here I am, sitting in the corner of someone’s kitchen, on my phone like the loser I am. I don’t know anyone here besides Zoe and there’s no way I’m going to talk to her. 

I spilt beer all over my nice white shirt. My nails are chipped from prying off the bottle cap. 

I think that’s Evan over there. Finally, someone I actually know. 

He’s coming over. 

(Why am I nervous?)

Probably because I’ve never had a proper conversation with this kid. I hope this isn’t too excruciating. 

 

October 31, 2016: Later Night

God that was awkward as hell. He seems so jumpy. Like a mouse or a rabbit. 

Something small and cute anyway. 

Not cute, just kind of appealing. 

Not like that though. 

His friend whisked him away pretty quickly. We only got to talk for a couple minutes. 

“Didn’t think you were much of a party goer,” I said. (Or something like that.)

“I’m not,” he said. “Jared wanted me to be here.”

“Jared?” I said. He pointed to a short kid with glasses. I think I just kind of nodded and sipped my beer. 

And we talked about how we didn’t know anyone here and about the cast on his arm. Not even sure why he was there. I don’t think he really knew either but it was cool to talk to him I guess. 

I haven’t actually just talked for the sake of it in awhile. It’s always because I want something or to complain or something like that.

But like, maybe it was kind of nice?

 

November 1, 2016

Evan likes trees a lot. He showed me pictures in class today. 

 

November 2, 2016

Mom says she’s happy with my progress. Little does she know this journal (NOT DIARY) is all me bitching about her. The doctor says it’s good though. He says I should be letting out my emotions. 

I don’t know how much of that I’m doing, but the approval is nice I get. 

It’s not like I get much of that at home. 

 

November 3, 2016

More tree pictures… I had lunch with Evan today. He managed to almost spill his drink down his shirt. Then he laughed awkwardly and proceeded to knock it over onto the table. He’s such a klutz. Jared sat with us. He’s kind of an ass.  
Pretty sure Evan is the only kid less popular than me.

 

November 4, 2016: Afternoon

Finally! The house is mine! Parents don't want me out in public with them. They’re taking Zoe to some sort of event so I get the place to myself. I can’t wait to stay up all night. 

I’ll be able to smoke inside for once. If I’m careful and I leave the windows open no one will know.

 

November 4, 2016: Night

SHIT I can’t get the smell out they’re totally gonna know when they get back fuck I’m so fucking screwed. Fuckfuckfuckfu

 

November 5, 2016

A word to the wise, never smoke inside. 

 

November 6, 2016

Zoe won't shut up. Keeps saying I have a ‘drug habit’. It’s more like an affair than a habit. 

Mom hasn’t let me out of her sight. Dad searched my room. Didn’t fine my edibles though. ;)

 

November 7, 2016

Man I really love my family. 

 

November 8, 2016

Doctor says I need to put more ‘details’ into my entries. He’s not reading them or anything. At least I hope he isn’t. But like he says I need to pour my soul out. 

I don’t think I even have a soul. 

If I do it’s not one you can pour out. It’s probably all shriveled up like a raisin or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor's soul is definitely a raisin. Brooding and dark, like he is.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed a title change. Literally every DEH fic is called dear Connor Murphy so I decided to switch it up

November 10, 2016

Wow it’s been a month already. Can’t believe I’ve actually kept going with this journal. 

The doctor said a minimum of 15 full sentences per entry, which seems a little outrageous to me. I’d better do them though. He said if the entries don’t look long enough he’ll start counting. 

I do _not_ want him to read these. 

I mean it’s not like they’re that bad or anything but it’s my life… I feel like I should at least be able to talk to myself in peace. I’m already at 8 sentences. 

Maybe this won’t be so hard.

But I’ll probably give up and stop soon. That’s what I’ve done with everything else. I don’t know why my parents think this therapist will be any different than the last three. None of them did any good either. But I’d better try so I don't get in trouble. I’m in enough hot water because of the pot anyway.

There, that was 15, with an extra for good measure. 

 

November 11, 2016: Morning

Friday at last. Sometimes I feel like I’m just living for the weekends. Not that I even do anything then I just sit around and try to get stoned out of my mind.  
Is that all there is? Just waiting for Friday to come? What am I even going to do later in life? 

Probably get a job, knock up some girl, and continue to smoke myself into a trance every weekend. Nothing better than self medication.  
Yeah, you read that right, I’m self aware. Obviously I’m just trying to cope with the infinity of life. This is all I’ll ever know so why not just make it go by a little more painlessly. 

Whatever. I just have to make it through the day. 

 

November 11, 2016: Afternoon

Looks like I’m not the only one trying to make it through the day. Guess who I caught crying in the bathroom. 

Yup, it was Evan. 

I’m not surprised. My mental health radar has been going wild around him. He’s going through a lot, poor kid. I didn’t ask or anything. Just leaned up against the counter with him while he cried into the sink. Got him cleaned up too.  
“You don’t have to do this,” he said. 

I said, yeah I don't have to, but it sucks to feel that way. I felt really bad for him. So I stayed in the bathroom with him until he calmed down and yelled at all the boys who tried to come in. 

Jared came in eventually looking for Evan. I didn’t make him leave. He doesn’t know how to deal with that type of thing though. So I didn’t go even then. And by that time school was over. 

I mean Evan looked like he was feeling better so I thought he’d be fine on his own. And I don’t know why I did it but I gave him a hug. 

It felt really weird and his cast was all pokey and stiff. But he was warm and soft and he smelled nice. And I think it was the first hug I actually wanted to have in years. 

That sounds so dumb doesn’t it? But I feel better and I don’t really get why. 

I hope Evan’s okay now. Maybe I’ll email him tonight, just to check. 

 

November 12, 2016

If I think hard enough I can still feel how warm he was. He didn’t really put his arms around me but his head rested on that soft spot under my chin and he just leaned on me. I don’t know why I can’t get it out of my head. I don’t even know _him_. But like I guess I really liked having someone to hold. 

Zoe and I didn’t even fight that much today. We sat on the couch and watched a movie and when she got up she asked if I wanted any popcorn. I said yeah and she got me one of the big bowls. Then I spilled it on the couch and she told on me. But it was kind of nice of her. 

Not the tattling part, but the rest of it. 

Is this 15 sentences yet? Maybe I should start using longer words. It looks long enough so I guess it’s fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just in: Connor craves physical affection..


	4. Chapter 4

November 13, 2016

It’s pretty much the 14th, I think it’s like 1 AM. But I don’t want to sleep. Mom and dad are asleep so I stole some of the vodka they keep in that ‘secret’ cabinet. I’ve known how to pick a lock for ages, I don't know why they’d think it would stop me. 

 

November 14, 2016

That wasn’t 15 sentences. Whatever. It’s Monday and I’m too tired to care. I stayed up late last night and now I’m so hung over I can barely move. Mom’s calling me from downstairs but I don’t want to get up. Zoe’s threatening to leave without me, as usual. 

Like I said, I love my family. 

 

November 14, 2016: Afternoon

Evan wouldn’t even look at me today during bio. I think he’s embarrassed about what happened.  
I wish he wasn’t. I kind of liked calming him down. It made me feel okay. 

And a little less alone. 

But things are going to be awkward from now on I guess. There goes that vague hope of a friendship. It’s not like it was going to turn into anything anyway. He’s even more of a loser than I am. I’d never want to be seen with him. 

Still I feel almost like I missed out on something. Probably nothing really. 

 

November 15, 2016

Maybe I do need therapy. It doesn’t help but I feel so much anger towards it there must be something wrong there. No normal thinking person would care so much about it. 

I hate it though, I hate everything about it. I hate the stoic professionalism and the way the doctor leans forward in his chair to scribble down notes like I’m some sort of lab rat. 

I wish I had someone to _really_ talk to. Someone I didn’t have to pay. 

But I could never talk to my parents. Or to Zoe. Those are my only two options so…

 

November 16, 2016

Thanksgiving break is coming up soon and the whole extended family will be here. There’s nothing I look forward to less than sitting around the table with my cousins worshiping some dead bird. Some years they have dinner at their house upstate. I hope this year is one of those years. I don’t know if I can deal with my aunt’s endless bickering with my mother. 

Please god, if you're out there, don’t let them buy me a Christmas sweater this year. 

 

November 17, 2016

It’s almost the weekend again. I need to actually study for finals this time. I bombed junior year and if I want the chance of getting into any colleges I need to do well on all my tests Zoe’s in a lot of my classes so I guess I can just steal her notes but I’d rather not face that potential wrath. 

So instead of just coming home and holing up in my room as usual I actually sat down at the kitchen counter and pulled out my notebook. I haven’t properly done homework in ages. 

Zoe almost flipped when she saw me. 

“What are you doing down here?”

“Homework,” I said. I didn’t look up but I know she did that little frown that she does when she thinks I’m up to something (which, I’d like to add, I’m usually not). And this time I really wasn’t so I just patted the seat next to me and asked her if she wanted to join. 

She didn’t.

Good thing too, I’d probably have throttled her after ten minutes of her clicking her pen. Sometimes she does it when she’s up late working and I can _hear_ it through the wall. She’s literally the reason for my drug problem. 

 

November 18, 2016

Again, I feel like I’m living for the weekend. Evan hasn’t so much as looked at me since last week and I feel kind of guilty for what I wrote about him on Monday. He’s not really a loser. He has one friend at least, and that’s more than I have (and I’m not just saying that because I need his bio notes!).

Today I tried to strike up conversation during our lab. It’s pretty hard not to talk to your lab partner when you’re cooperating to dissect a crayfish, but somehow, Evan was managing to ignore me pretty well up until then. 

“How are you holding up?” I asked. I made sure to sound real casual when I said it so he wouldn’t think that he was all I’d been worrying about all week. 

“Oh, y’know,” he shrugged, inching his scalpel around the liver. I shuddered. Crayfish are fucking gross on the inside. I was fiddling with one of the little splinters of shell I think. It was weird and brittle. 

“I do know,” I tried to sound sympathetic. But not _too_ sympathetic. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

He hid his face, and he was all blush-y. It made the freckles stand out on his cheeks. “No, no, I’m fine. I didn’t mean to let you see me like that last week. I feel guilty you had to put up with that. You’re probably really busy and like, I get you have your own problems—“ He broke off and dropped the scalpel. “Not that you have _problems_! I just meant like I don’t want to bother you with all this and…”

He said a lot more, but it was basically along those lines so I’m not gonna bother to write it down. I just waited until the storm was over and gave him a patient smile. Probably more like a grimace. He looked like it made him feel a little better though, and he finally shut up. 

And then I don’t know what really happened but he reached out real tentatively and like, squeezed my hand. It was weird because there was crayfish juice all over our gloves and it kind of squelched. And then Evan pulled away very quickly and went back to his work like it had never happened and I had to stop myself from laughing. 

Because my god this kid is an idiot and he’s so awkward and a complete mess but at the same time he’s so fucking cute and I can’t help but notice. 

I know I’m not supposed to write that down. I’ve never told anyone about the way I think about boys. I guess I’ve never really told myself either but now it’s all I can think of. I need so get stoned and think some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor Murphy checklist:  
> \- copying notes off other people  
> \- pot  
> \- internalized gay realizations


	5. Chapter 5

November 19, 2016

I woke up at like 3 in the afternoon. Mom’s on my ass about how late I sleep in. But seriously, the craziest thing happened last night. 

So you know how I said I was going to get high? Well I did. I climbed out the window and sat in the big tree out in the yard. And I was just lighting up when Zoe bursts into the room.

 _Shit_ , I thought. _If she sees me I’m done for._

So I was real still and quiet waiting for her to go away. But honestly that was such a bad plan because the weed I bought off my dealer was awful and it stank. She poked her head out in about 4 seconds and spotted me up in the tree. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, or something like that.

“Smoking. Don’t tell mom.” 

She looked at me for a long minute and gave me this real fierce stare like she was thinking hard. And then she quick slid through the window and climbed up into the tree with me. 

“What are you doing?” I asked. She held out her hand. 

“Pass me the blunt.”

I did, but I don’t really know why. I had no idea what she wanted it for since I know she doesn’t smoke. But she stuck it in her mouth like an old time movie star with a cigarette. She took a deep breath and sucked in all the smoke.

Then she burst out coughing and I shushed her, plucking it from her fingers.   
“Mom and dad will hear!” I said. Zoe made a grab for it. 

“I’ll be quiet, just let me have some.”

I took a drag and passed it back to her. We sat there quietly but she was trying not to cough and she kept making weird choking noises. She was still holding it like she was Audrey Hepburn. 

“What are you doing out here?” I asked after a moment. 

She didn’t respond at once, offering it back to me. I took it. 

“I don’t know I just wanted to try I guess.” 

I could tell that wasn't all she had to say, but she offered up nothing else. 

“Is something wrong?” I asked. 

“No.”

Something was definitely wrong. She had this look just a little too blank. And it was way too soon for her to be high. I swallowed hard. I could feel a heart to heart chat coming on so I took a big inhale and let the drug numb me. 

“Okay, maybe there is something,” She sounded hesitant. We don’t really do sibling bonding in the Murphy family so this was all new territory. 

Zoe took a deep breath and swung her legs a little.

“I came out to mom and dad. I’m gay. They didn’t take it well.”

I almost dropped the blunt. “What?”

She smiled slightly, but it was little more than curving her lips. “I’m gay. I like girls.”

My heart was thumping. She must have known, I thought. This must be some sick ploy to get me to come out to her.

But then I looked at her. And thought about everything I knew about her. That time I’d caught her making out with Jack Lewis in tenth grade. I’d heard it through the wall (like I mentioned, thin walls = no privacy) and I’d gone in to get them to shut up. 

She’d been sitting there with her body angled away from him. The only thing touching had been their lips. It looked weird. Uncomfortable. Unnatural. 

Zoe looked over at me. She probably knew what I was thinking about. 

“Mom and dad said I’m probably just confused. They said everyone goes through phases in high school and college. But I know I’m gay. I guess I just figured you’d actually get it, you know?”

“Why’s that?” I asked, and my voice was sharper than I meant it to be. I cleared my throat. “I mean, what do you mean I’d get it?”

“You’re the same way, aren’t you?”

It felt like something had shot straight into my stomach. I clenched the blunt so hard I felt it sizzle against my fingers. Quickly stubbing it out, I looked away and tossed the extinguished end. 

“Of course not. I’m nothing like _you_.” 

She recoiled and her face began to heat. “We all know what you are, even if you don’t. Open your eyes, will you? We’re both disappointments to this family.”

I felt a thick, hot blush creeping over my cheeks. I didn’t know what to say. She’d got me nailed down. Somehow she’d seen right through me. I wanted to snap and say something unforgivable. But there was nothing more I could do. She knew me.

“Fuck them,” I said quietly. Then I said it louder. “Fuck them. They’re just as much of a disappointment as we are. We can’t help the way we were raised. They just screwed up. We’re the outcome of their shitty parenting. Who cares if we’re fucking gay that’s something that we can’t help. But the fact that they’re judging us for it, that’s where they need to take some responsibility and get their shit together. They may not like us but we’re the only kids they’ve got. Can’t just trade us in, all they can do is work with us.”

I don’t know where it all came from. I still don’t. It just welled up inside me like I’d been waiting to say it my whole life. And something lifted ever so slightly off my chest. Zoe stared at me with wide eyes. She bit her lip and nodded slowly. 

“You’re right. Why are we fighting each other when we’re not the problem here?”

“I don’t know,” I said. It sounded quiet after the torrent of words. “But, I don’t really hate you. I kind of love you.”

She blinked, surprised. “I know. I love you too.”

Zoe stuck out a hand. I could barely see anything now it had gotten so dark. But I took it and gave it a firm shake. (Who even shakes hands in this day and age?)

“Truce?” she said. 

“Truce.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this was a little more prose-y  
> but some sibling bonding going on to make up for it. I'll try to get back to the journal style.


	6. Chapter 6

November 20, 2016

 

Dad won’t even look at Zoe. I have no idea what he’ll do if I ever come out. Probably kick me right out of the house.

November 21, 2016

Evan sat with me at lunch today. I was all by myself, minding my own business. Then suddenly I heard this nervous little cough and I looked up and there he was. 

“Hi, can I sit with you?” he asked, and I could see his hands shaking a little. 

“Yeah, sure, whatever you want.”

“I want to,” he said. “I mean, if you want to. I don’t want to bother you. I can sit somewhere else if you want.”

I moved over to give him space and motioned for him to sit. He was chewing his lip and I could see it was pink and swollen a little bit. Not that I was looking at his lips I just happened to notice it then because he was so nervous.

Jared was staring daggers at me from across the room where he was sitting with a couple of other kids I didn’t know. I don’t know why he even bothered to talk to me. All he does is tease me. And Evan too. What kind of friend would do that? I mean Evan is a little pathetic sometimes I have to admit but that’s no reason to make fun of him. 

“Why do you even hang around him?” I asked.

I immediately regretted it because:

A) I hadn’t specified who I was even talking about, nor did I want to because that would entail explaining my entire inner dialogue around Jared and Evan

B) I really didn’t want to let on just how much I cared about Evan’s wellbeing

But he followed my gaze or something because somehow he knew who I meant. 

“He’s my family friend. His parents know I don’t really have any friends—“ He blushed hard and looked away, his voice dropping. “—so they pay him to hang out with me. I wouldn’t have anyone if I didn’t have Jared.”

 _You’d have me_. I carefully didn't say. 

I was sure to steer clear of the Jared topic after that. Evan didn’t seem particularly thrilled to bring it up and explain how his only friend was just using him for car insurance. We ate our lunch mostly in silence.

 

November 22, 2016

I did something so stupid today. 

God I’m so embarrassed about this. I’d tell you not to tell anyone about this but it’s me so I guess it’s pointless to say.

Here goes.

I was walking at school today. And there was something on the ground. It was a flower. I looked around to make sure no one was watching and picked it. Then I thought about Evan and plucked all the petals off one by one. And when it got down to the last one it was a ‘loves me’ petal and I pulled it off and stuck it in my pocket. I put it in between the first and second page of my journal. 

I don’t know why I did it. I don't _do_ this kind of thing. The last time I had a crush was when Iron Man first came out which was like a million years ago (I checked it’s actually eight years ago but that’s practically the same thing.). I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that I totally like Evan Hansen, or the fact that at one point in my life I had a crush on Tony Stark. 

 

November 23, 2016

I like Evan Hansen. A lot. And I could feel myself blushing when I sat next to him today in class. He was scribbling in the margins of his notebook and drawing little trees all over the place. Honestly he probably caught me staring but I just can’t help it. He’s so adorable the way he grips his pencil too hard or how his eyebrows knit so close together that the insides almost touch. 

I’m in so deep this is really bad. No one can ever know.

 

November 24, 2016

Oh my god I’m fuming right now fuck this truce I’m never trusting Zoe again. We were talking and stuff and I went to get a glass of water and I come back and she’s READING MY JOURNAL. 

MY JOURNAL.

SHE WAS READING IT.

First of all what a fucking breach of privacy. Secondly who the hell snoops around other people’s rooms while they’re out like that’s just fucking rude, okay? She said she found it under my pillow when she was sitting on the bed. And instead of putting it back like someone who isn’t, I don’t know, a fucking psycho she opened it and read like half of it before I caught her. Unfortunately I’m pretty sure it was the second half although I don’t really even know because in my blind fury I ordered her out of here and slammed the door without another word.

She probably knows about Evan. Oh god what am I going to do, no one was supposed to know it was never supposed to be like this. This was _my_ secret this was the one thing keeping me going. Something to look forward to and now she’s even taken that away from me. 

Screw this I can’t live like this any more. I need to go. I don’t know where but I need to go somewhere that isn’t this damn house full of strangers. And I’m bringing my journal with me this time, since I can’t even trust my OWN FAMILY NOT TO LOOK THROUGH IT.

The only problem is I have no idea where to go. I don’t really have any friends. 

Evan just emailed me back. He’s the one friend I sort of have I guess. But I can’t ask him, can I?

No, of course I can’t he’s basically a stranger. Connor you’re such a fucking idiot, you know that? 

Still, I know where he lives. A few streets away, in the house with the big oak tree by the door. He showed me pictures of that tree weeks ago. I could do it. I could really do it. 

And I think maybe I will.


	7. Chapter 7

November 24, 2016: Late Night

I did end up going to Evan’s house. I just needed to get out of there. Being in the same house as my family is hell. I had no idea whether my mom was just going to open the door and catch me huddled on the floor crying.

I remember it was very cold. But I don’t remember a lot else because at this point everything was sort of one knot of panic in my chest and I knew I just had to get out of there. 

It took a few tries to find Evan’s house. I knew what street it was on I was just having trouble reading the signs in the dark and through my tears. When I spotted it I broke into a run, slipping on the ice forming along the cracked pavement. His house is much smaller than mine, with peeling paint and very well tended gardens. But somehow it looked more like a home than my house ever has. I stopped, unsure whether or not to knock on the door because what if Evan thought I was a murderer or something and freaked out. I didn’t want him in there alone and scared but I didn’t want me out here alone and scared either so in the end I swallowed the growing lump in my throat and pushed the doorbell. 

I could here it ring, a short buzz, and then another as I pressed again. 

It took long seconds before I heard the sound of footsteps. Then the door flung itself open and Evan was there with a smile plastered on his round little face. 

“Did you forget your key again?” he asked, and then his face fell when he saw it was me. I can’t blame him. I was streaked with dirt and tears, and scratched badly from where I’d slipped out of the tree and fallen the last few feet into the rosebushes. 

“Oh gosh,” His breathing was getting more and more rapid, short and sharp. “Are you alright? What happened? Are you hurt? I’m so sorry I shouldn’t be asking so many questions I just—” He broke off.

I wanted to say I was okay but I couldn’t seem to get the words out so instead I just burst into tears again. His eyes went wide and scared and he pushed the door open a little wider. 

“Please come in. If you want I mean. You’re bleeding. I have a first aid kit in here.”

“Thank you.” I murmured in a shaky voice, and followed him inside, past a kitchen table strewn with his unfinished homework, up the stairs piled with books and papers, and into the cramped green tiled bathroom with a single crack in the mirror. 

We didn’t say anything as he patched me up. He didn’t ask anymore questions, nor did he look like he wanted to. It was a strangely companionable silence, like at lunch when we were both busy with our own thoughts. I think it helped to calm me down more than anything else could have. Most of my scrapes had closed up on their own, with only one deep one still bleeding a little. I winced as the hydrogen peroxide stung. 

“Sorry,” He moved away as if I’d smacked him. 

“No, it’s alright. If it stings it just means it’s doing its job.”

We were quiet again until he was finished. 

“Would you like to come to my room?” he asked. “I know you’re probably tired and I guess since you're here you probably don't want to go home but you should get some rest.”

I nodded. “Thanks. I can’t go home yet.”

Evan gave me a small smile and said he understood. People say that kind of thing all the time, as a placeholder in conversation. But with Evan it seemed as if he really did get it. I wondered how many nights he’d run away. Maybe one day he’d turn up at my doorstep. 

He tossed me some sweats and turned his back so I could change. It felt weird being this vulnerable in front of Evan Hansen. 

Evan Hansen. The boy who’d hugged me and cried on me and held my hand. He was the boy who I knew so little about, but at the same time seemed to know everything about me. Especially in this moment. For all his stammering at nervous twitches right now when it really mattered he somehow knew what to do, knew exactly what I needed. I knew I’d made the right choice coming here tonight. 

His clothes were a little tight on me, but I didn’t really mind. I tugged them on and told him it was alright to turn around. Maybe it was just me, but his eyes seemed to linger on the space where my shirt didn’t quite meet the waistline of my boxers, exposing a thin sliver of skin to the warm light of his desk lamp. 

Then he sat down on his bed and motioned for me to come sit next to him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. I shook my head. 

“Not yet. I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?” There was something soft about my voice. I haven’t heard that gentle a sound come out of my mouth in years. 

He didn’t push it, just drew back the covers enough for me to wiggle in, and tucked me into the blue striped sheets of his little twin bed. It smelled overwhelmingly of Evan. A little like vanilla, and ivory soap. 

“I’ll let you sleep,” he said, and stood up. I wanted to reach out, to grab his hand and say _no, please stay with me_. 

But I didn’t. Because there wasn’t enough room in the bed. 

Okay that wasn’t really the reason. I didn’t want to put him through any more than he’d already been through tonight. Evan Hansen had done so much for me. I couldn’t bring myself to make him do any more. He looked at me for a long moment.

“You’ll be okay by yourself?” he asked. 

 _Is he asking to stay?_ I wondered. But I just nodded sleepily. My eyelids were already falling closed. 

“I’ll be alright.” 

He smiled a little, in his awkward, nervous way, and turned off the light. I listened to him retreat down the stairs. Then I quietly got up to retrieve my journal from my coat pocket. I felt like I needed to write everything down now, before this fantasy dissolved back into my everyday life. Before I was shoved back into my little yellow room in my little white house, back behind my picket fence with my perfect family. 

At some point, Evan’s mom came home. I can hear them talking downstairs. God, she’s so much more understanding than my mom. 

My eyes are hurting from the low light spilling in from the hallway. I don’t want to turn the desk light back on in case I disturb Evan downstairs. I don’t want to put him through any more for me. He’s such a kind boy, the kind of person I wish I could be. Maybe if this were a different world, I could be like Evan Hansen. Maybe some day I will be, when he needs me to be.

I should go to bed. I’m falling asleep while I’m writing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I understand if you despise me for missing out on a bed-sharing opportunity.


	8. Chapter 8

November 25, 2016: Morning

When I woke up I had one new message from Zoe. 

**Hey Connor. Evan told me you crashed at his place. I’m sorry about last night. I told Mom and Dad you left early to work on a project at school.**

I sighed and turned off my phone, rolling over onto my back. I almost fell off the bed. Evan has a very narrow mattress. Sitting up quickly, I pushed back the covers and made to stand up. Then I stopped. Someone had left a mug of coffee on the bedside table. It was long cold.

Tucked beneath it was a note. 

 

_Dear Connor,_

_It’s Evan. Obviously. Or at least I hope obviously because as far as I know I’m the only one besides you in the house right now. Mom’s at work. She won’t be home until late tonight. She told me it would be best to let you sleep in, so I didn’t wake you for school. There’s pancakes downstairs and coffee in the coffeepot. Stay as long as you’d like. I’ll be home at 4._

_Sincerely,_

_Evan_

_P.S. If you want to watch TV just text me and I’ll send you our Netflix password. Also I hope you like the pancakes. I made them._

 

I smiled, and folded up the note for safekeeping. It’s in the journal next to the dried up petal from the other day. Then I went downstairs to gorge myself on as many pancakes as I could (Evan is a very good cook). The coffee down there was still lukewarm, so I rinsed out my cup and filled it again. I like to pretend that I drink my coffee black, to go with the whole persona I’ve got going, but since I was alone I allowed myself sugar and milk. 

Now here I am. In Evan Hansen’s house. Eating his food and drinking his coffee. Life is good.

 

November 25, 2016

Evan seemed happy to see me when he got home. I’d passed out on the couch in front of reruns of America’s Next Top Model, and the only thing that woke me up was the sound of him closing the door. 

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” he asked. “I didn’t realize you’d still be here.”

I yawned and stretched my arms. “I probably should have left. I don’t want to bother you.”

“No it’s okay!” he said quickly. “I’d rather you be here. That way I know you’re safe.”

I turned off the TV and he sat down next to me on the couch. It was a mess of Evan-scented blankets, obviously where he’d camped out last night while I’d selfishly taken his bed. 

“Um, h-how was your day?” he asked, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 

“I ate all your pancakes, sorry.” I said and he laughed his little nervous laugh. 

“I’m glad you ate them. I made them for you.”

 _Evan Hansen made me pancakes._ I could feel my heart beating fast in my chest. He was so cute damn it. I couldn’t help but feel a blush creeping over my cheeks. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asked, breaking my thoughts. 

I nodded. “I probably should. Especially after I crashed at your house last night. Thanks for taking me in.”

“No no it’s fine, really! I’m glad I could help. Like I said I’d rather know you’re safe. I’m just worried what made you so upset.”

“It was my sister,” I said, and gave a lame shrug. “I-I’ve been doing this thing for therapy. It’s not much I guess, just keeping a journal about my life. And I caught her reading it last night. I don’t know it was like the one thing I could count on and she just had to take even that away.” I sat back, and sighed. “I just feel so stupid having to do it too. I mean what normal teenager keeps a fucking diary? I call it a journal or whatever but at the end of the day I still feel like I’m just documenting my pathetic excuse for a life. I feel like people would be better off forgetting.”

He stood up, and for a moment I was worried I’d made him angry somehow. Then I remembered he was Evan Hansen and I relaxed. It would be impossible to make him mad. Or at least very difficult. 

“I’ll be right back!” he said, and disappeared up the stairs to his room. I waited a minute, listening to his footsteps creak through the ceiling. When he came back he had several messy papers in his hand.

“I do the same thing,” he said, and showed me the sheet he was holding. “Dr. Sherman, uh, my therapist, he says it helps to build confidence. I started months ago. I’m so glad I’m not the only one doing it, I felt so weird writing letters to myself every day.”

 _Dear Evan Hansen_ , I read. _Today is going to be a good day…_

I smiled. Even in writing I could hear his voice. I skimmed the rest of the letter. 

“Do you think it helps?” Evan asked, a little nervously. “I do. I never would have had the courage to talk to you if I hadn’t written this one.”

He gestured to a particularly long letter, and I smiled again. 

“I don’t know, maybe it has helped.” I thought about it and yeah, I guess writing this has done a lot for me. I’ve looked back through my old one line entries and things seemed to really have changed. So I nodded. “Yeah, I think it’s done a lot. I feel less bad now that I know you do it too.”

“You shouldn’t feel bad,” he said. “It’s to help you get better. As long as it does something that’s what’s important.”

“You’re right,” I said. “I shouldn’t feel bad.”

He leaned closer and my heart leapt in my chest. I could see the freckles in his cheeks standing out against his pale skin. He licked his lips and I couldn’t take my eyes away. 

But then he pulled back, and told me that the cut on my cheek looked like it was healing quickly. I cursed myself for letting my mind think anything of his action. Of course he’d just been checking to see if I was alright. He was Evan, kind, caring Evan. 

“I should get going,” I said finally. 

“What?” He looked confused, and a little sad. 

“I mean I figured I should leave before your mom gets home. She probably won’t want to see me after I so rudely crashed at your house last night.”

“I mean, if you want to go you can,” he said, twisting at the hem of his shirt. “I kind of figured you wouldn’t want to go home tonight so I told her you’d be here for dinner. She’s bringing home pizza on her way back from work.”

“You did what?”

“If you want to go that’s okay. I’m sorry for assuming,” he said quickly, and laughed nervously. 

“No, Evan, I’d be happy to stay. Thank you for thinking of me.” I told him, and gently placed my hand on top of his. It was an odd, halting gesture. But he seemed satisfied, and his small smile returned to his face. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This note was wedged between November 25th and 26th of Connor's journal. It's on a separate, printed piece of paper.

Dear Evan Hansen,

Today is going to be a good day and here’s why:

You’re going to tell Connor how you feel today. Today. No more putting it off. At lunch you’re going to walk right up to him and sit down and ask him on a date because you are Evan Hansen, and no man can resist a boy like you. 

Right?

Right. You can do it Evan. It’s not so hard. You’ll just sit down and take a drink of water and you’ll say “Connor there’s something I need to tell you.”

And Connor will say, “What’s that Evan? Is everything okay?”

And you’ll say, “Yes. Everything is fine. Actually it’s more than fine. Because I like you a lot and I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me this weekend?”

And he’ll say, “I’d love to Evan. I feel the same way about you.” 

And from across the room, Jared will probably see you and make some joke later about how you _always_ fall for the bad boy types because of course he’s known for weeks about this new boy you’ve had a crush on but he had no idea it was Connor Murphy of all people. And you’ll blush and shake it off because it doesn’t really matter, does it? Not when you have a date with Connor! 

You’ll get that date with him, don’t you worry. I know you’re going to worry anyway because you’re me and I know myself too well. But it’ll be okay. It always is. And worst comes to worst you’ll just get pizza with Jared after school instead. It’s practically a win-win. Seriously, everything’s going to be fine. Good luck out there.

Sincerely, 

Me.


	10. Chapter 10

November 26, 2016: Morning

I can’t believe it. I literally can’t believe it. Evan Hansen likes me. Like _like_ likes me. 

What do I do?

I mean I could just tell him and kiss him or something but then I’d have to confess that I read his letter and then I’d be just like Zoe and he’d probably hate me or something because he’s such a shy boy I can’t let him know. But I wan’t to say something so badly. 

We’re sitting on his bed. Evan’s doing homework beside me. He’s concentrating on the page and he’s got this little crease between his brows. I think it’s so cute. I could reach out and ruffle his hair or something and honestly I want to so badly. 

No, control yourself Connor. This is no time to fuck around. There’s serious business to attend to. For instance the fact that _Evan likes me_.

I could just lean over and kiss him right now. Oh shit he’s looking up. He’s speaking. He’s asking about the bio homework. 

I should probably go help him with bio. 

 

November 26: Afternoon

We’re sitting just a little bit closer now. He’s leaning on my legs. I don’t want him to move but it’s kind of a painful position. But it’s Evan so of course I’ll just let him rest. 

When we were working on homework earlier he was very close to me. I could feel his body move as he breathed. And I counted the darkest freckles on his cheeks. Eleven to be exact. 

I want to kiss every one of them. Not in a weird way. It’s not like I’m like super into them or anything I just think it would be cute. Like a cute, couple-y thing to do. Right? Not creepy, right? 

Maybe just a little. 

There’s these thick golden beams of sunlight splashing through the window. And they’re falling on his hair turning it this beautiful gold color. It’s usually beautiful but now especially so. 

“Evan,” I say. I just said it. I said it out loud. I’m going to tell him. 

Connor Murphy you’re going to tell him how you feel. You’re going to sit next to him on this bed and you’re going to ask this boy on a date because you’re a brooding, sexy boy that no man can resist. 

“Yeah?” he says. He looks up. And I can feel my heart pounding in my chest and damn he’s so close to me I could just say something. Come on Connor, just say something. You know he likes you he does why are you so nervous? 

“I was just thinking,” I let the sentence trail of. 

Just say it. 

Say it.

“I was thinking,” I say again. Damn, why did I say it again? Why can’t I just get it out? “I was thinking—“ _No Connor why did you say it a third time?_ “—maybe we could—“ _Hook up on this bed right now with your mom downstairs doing last night’s dishes._ “—study together for the test coming up.”

_NO WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?_

His face falls a little, or is that just my imagination? And he’s biting his lip which is really fucking cute I must admit. Okay, he’s nodding. That’s a good sign. Maybe I can just tell him while we’re studying? Yeah. I can think it over before that. Get everything down in my head and then I can just tell him. God, why didn’t I just tell him. 

“That sounds great,” he says. He’s fidgeting with his pencil, rolling it between his fingers. He’s putting it down. Oh my god he’s reaching for my hand. Do friends normally hold hands? Is this a thing straight boys do?

No, I don’t think so. He likes me, remember?

“Hey Connor, I was thinking—“ _Oh god now he’s saying it too._ “—I was thinking that—“ _He said it a second time. He’s going to say something. Brace yourself Connor he’s going to say something right fucking now this is actually happening._ “—Fuck it.”

I don’t even have time to register the fact that Evan Hansen just swore for what I think is the first time since I’ve known him. Because suddenly he’s kissing me. Like on the mouth. 

I guess I should start writing in past tense since this all happened before I wrote it down. Like maybe five minutes ago? I pushed the journal aside for obvious reasons. 

His lips were really soft. Which is a surprise given how much he bites them. And I don’t know I haven’t felt this happy since I finished the Pride and Prejudice movie (No one can know how much I love that movie.).

Finally, I tangled my hands in his hair. Time to check that off my bucket list. 

He pulled away, and his brows had that worry crease between them again. 

“Was that okay? It was alright, wasn’t it?”

I didn’t even know what to say. I just nodded dumbly. He blushed. 

“You were alright with it?”

“Yes,” I said, finally finding my voice. “I was very alright with it. Thanks.”  
God I’m such a dumbass, why did I thank him? I’m so bad at this.

“Um, thank’s too, I guess. Because like you could have pulled away or just not kissed back or something but you did so thank you.”

He was stuttering again and before I knew what I was doing I’d kissed him again to cut off his rambling. This time it was more relaxed. And a little slower. His body fell on mine a little as he pushed against my mouth. I let him lean onto me. It felt nice. Comforting. I liked the way I could feel the warmth of his body through his shirt. The sun still wetted the ends of his hair, turning his skin into a pale gold. 

“I like you,” I said, pulling away. 

“Like _like_ like me?” he asked. 

I nodded

“I like you too,” he said. “Like a lot.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “I know. I found your letter.”

He blushed bright red. “What? You knew? Why didn't you say anything? It would have made things so much easier.”

“I was scared,” I said, and now it was my turn to blush a little.

Evan laughed. “ _You_? Connor Murphy? I can’t believe you were scared. Especially because you were scared of _me_.”

“I wasn’t scared of you! I was scared to tell you. There’s a distinction.” 

“Right,” he said. And then we kissed until Heidi said lunch was ready. And then we ate lunch and kissed some more. But you can only kiss so long before it gets boring so now we’re back to doing our homework. 

Only this time Evan’s sitting on my lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So! They kissed! Finally!


	11. Chapter 11

November 27, 2016

My parents barely reacted when I got home last night. Mom just said something about calling next time and dad did little more than nod as I came in the door. How sick is that? Your son disappears off the face of the earth for two nights and they barely acknowledge it. I’m surprised Zoe’s excuse held up to be honest. 

Anyway, about Zoe. Things seem alright between us. Instead of freaking out as I usually do, I knocked on her door and explained why I didn’t want her looking through my shit. And she in turn said that she was just very worried about me and my well being, although she understands now that it was not appropriate. It was very formal, which felt a little weird. 

At least things are okay though. Anything’s better than going back to fighting. So as of right now, things are kind of at peace in my family. Mom cooked us a nice ‘family style’ dinner and we all sat around the table. Half way through the meal dad grudgingly asked if there were any girls at school that Zoe was interested in. She blushed beet red. I think that dad’s trying to be good to her, and that he regrets freaking out at her the other night. Zoe says mom quietly apologized on Friday. I guess it’ll be my turn to come out next. 

As for Evan and I, we’re together now. Like not just together in the same place. He’s probably at his house while I’m writing this. We’re _together_ together. Like dating. 

I know. I can’t believe it either. Me and Evan. Evan and me. Together. 

I can’t wait to see the look on Jared Kleinman’s face when he finds out. Fuck I hope I’m there to see it. I told Evan not to tell him until we’re all together. He’s going to flip.

Tomorrow is Monday. I’ll get to see Evan again. I can’t wait. Maybe I’ll hold his hand in class. That would be really risky, wouldn’t it? 

 

November 28, 2016

Evan and I studied at my house after school. Because I asked him last Saturday during my failed attempt to confess my undying attraction to him. Remember that? But I got to spend more time with him so I guess it worked out. We didn’t really study very much, just talked and kissed. Most of the talking was Evan saying something along the lines of “We should really start studying, it’s getting late,” and then me cutting him off by kissing him again. He didn’t seem to mind too much in the end. And he came to dinner to meet my family. Zoe is totally on to us. She kept looking up and giving us the once over like she expected to find us suddenly making out at the table or something. Of course, what she didn’t see was the hand I had resting on his thigh under the table. Poor Evan looked so nervous the whole time, not only because of the hand-on-leg thing but because my dad and mom kept peppering him with questions about school and hobbies and what ever else parents grill their kids friends over. 

He looked relieved when diner was finally over. The two of us went back up to my room to pack his things up before he walked home. 

“So how was it?” I asked.   
“How was what?”

“Meeting my parents.”

He shook his head vigorously. “That doesn't count! They didn’t know we were together!”

“It counts,” I said. I sounded smug, even in my own ears. “You’ve officially met the Murphy family.”

“Well, it was okay. They seemed nice. Very eager to know about my college picks. But, uh, you’ve met my mom. How was that?”

I sighed. “No Evan that doesn’t count. We weren’t together when I met your mom.”

“Not at first, no, but then we kissed and she called us down for lunch, remember?”

I did remember. But I wasn’t going to let him win this. 

“Yeah but I’d already met her,” I said. “It wasn’t like it was the first time when she called us for lunch.”

“It was the first time since we’d kissed.”

“But I already knew her,” I argued. He shook his head, as close to enraged as a boy like Evan Hansen could be. I smiled. “You’re so cute,” I said, before I could stop myself. 

He looked up. “You think I’m c-cute?”

“We spent most of the afternoon hooking up on my bed Evan. Of course I think you’re cute.”

Poor Evan, his cheeks flushed pink and he looked so embarrassed. “Well, I, um, I think you’re cute too…”

“You do?” I asked, and my voice went all quiet because honestly no one had ever told me I was cute not in my whole life. Not even when I was little and my mother’s friends would come over for lunch and pinch my cheeks and say how handsome I looked. It was never _cute,_ always handsome. Or grown up. Or dapper. Or any of the thousand other words that people use to describe boys. Cute is never one of them. And the way Evan said it, I was overcome with the want to be cute. Which is dumb of course. But it’s true. When Evan said it, I wanted to be more than the sum of the words for boys. More than handsome, or debonair, or brawny, or rugged. I wanted to be more than just that category.

And somehow he could tell exactly what I wanted. Because he kissed me on the cheek and talked in a soft, sweet voice.  
“Connor, you’re cute. And you’re pretty. And you're beautiful. And you’re lovely. And sweet. And kind. And gentle.”

I felt my heart melt for him. So I kissed him until my mother knocked on the door to ask if he needed a ride home. I don’t know if she could tell by our flushed faces and pink lips. But if she could, she didn’t mention it. 

Now Evan is gone. He’s probably at home, writing a letter to himself or watering a plant. Or one of the hundreds of little, perfect Evan things that he does. But I can still feel him on my lips. The space where his skin should be pressed against mine. I miss him. 

But it’s okay because I’ll see him tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. For the first time I’m looking ahead to the future with something more than dread. For the first time, I can’t wait for the rest of my life.

Sincerely, 

Me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end! I hope you liked it, please let me know if you did.


End file.
